Liars
by abovetheserpentine
Summary: They were liars, and they both knew it. After all, it takes one to know one... right? BZHG.


I've been meaning to write a BlaiseHermione for a while now, but my Cedric fic took most of my writing time up. Being busy isn't fun when you have hobbies that unfortunately get neglected!

**Taking Back Sunday – Liar (It Takes One To Know One)  
**_Liar, liar! If we're keeping score -  
We're all choir boys at best,  
Intrusive and arrogant.  
Liar, liar! Liar, liar!  
It takes one to know one._

* * *

**LIARS**

Sometimes it's easier to deceive yourself.

Hermione Granger was one of those people who knew how easy it was, and she tended to do it on a regular basis. She was all too familiar with the way things were when one deceived themselves. It was a simple denial that ended in not so simple consequences.

Walking down the hallway seemed like an ordinary affair – and for the most part, it was. But for Hermione Granger, things weren't so easy, or so simple. As she walked down a hallway of Hogwarts, a school for wizards and witches, she noticed a lot of things that would she would be better off not noticing. For instance, the way one of her supposed best friends ogled at her was slightly disturbing, and she'd spent a lot of her time over the years deceiving herself into thinking that he was simply amazed at some sort of new personality trait he'd come across. Or maybe just her supposed 'newfound' sense of humour. And then there were her teachers, who had taken to giving her odd looks as of late. Just what was their problem? She figured it was her new zeal to achieve full marks in everything. Not like she didn't anyway, but little things like Potions and Transfiguration needed some work.

She didn't like to think that it was because she'd maybe, just maybe, accidentally dyed her hair. It was a little darker, a darker brown than she was used to. Nothing big, though. Simply a transfiguration gone wrong.

Who cared if she dyed her hair, anyway? Definitely not the teachers, that's for sure.

Sighing in self-deceived contentment, she continued on her merry way down the corridor, saying goodbye to her two friends as they ascended the stairs up to Gryffindor tower. She felt like strolling some more.

"Mudblood!"

He liked to interrupt, didn't he? She really would tire of the insult, if one could even call it that now. The boy had used it too much in such a short period of time that Hermione almost liked to think of it as a nickname; a name he was calling her out of affection.

There she went again with the deceiving. She really ought to stop.

"What is it?" she said tiredly as she turned around.

He seemed a little too sure of himself today. Maybe it was the casual way he flicked his white blonde hair back, or the relaxed stance he had acquired in place of the usual aggressive one used for intimidation. But she was pretty sure it was the sparkling white smile on his face.

That was definitely out of place.

"I'd thought I'd let you know that you look simply ravishing with that hair."

She tried not to detect the mirth and the slight bitterness in his tone, and instead responded in kind.

"Thank you, Draco. I have to say, that smile of yours made my day. You should do it more often."

She hoped he couldn't detect the mirth and slight bitterness in her tone.

Her hopes were answered when the smile dropped from his face like a fly that just got sprayed with insect spray. It was a rather lovely sight.

"Oh, I'm sorry… did I offend you?"

The boy sneered and stalked off into the depths of the dungeons, a place she rather liked to frequent.

Oh, who was she kidding? She hated the dungeons.

"You know, for a seventh year, you'd think he would have _some_ semblance of maturity." She muttered to herself, readjusting the books in her arms and carrying on down the corridor.

_Lying is becoming a lot more frequent_, she mused, as she sat down in her favourite chair in the library. She didn't think she could stay away from this place. It was like a second home of sorts.

_Of course I could stay away from here. It's not like… I'm attached at the hip to the library or anything._

Lie.

Rolling her eyes at herself, Hermione gently placed her books on the table with some blank parchment and her ink and well. There was just one slight problem – Snape had said that they could not cite their textbook as a source, which was just a pickle because all the information was in there. This meant she'd have to put her researching skills to the test by acquiring a variety of Potions books to refer to. Sighing, she pushed herself up from her position. Walking along the aisles, she turned down one to the back of the library, in a rather secluded area. She thought it was quite fitting, given the Potions classroom was in the dungeon, that the area in the library dedicated to potion would also be a rather dank, dark, depressing place.

Who liked Potions, anyway?

"Oh, baby… do that again. Uh… uh, yes… right there."

Since when was Potions a turn on?

She was perusing the books for what would fit her potion of choice, trying desperately to ignore the sounds of agreement.

Maybe they were pleasure, she really wasn't sure.

Glancing out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed the likely suspect of such a situation. She knew she'd been right.

"Blaise, can't you take your… winnings, elsewhere?" she said, still looking intently at all the different coloured books, having given up on actually finding a relevant book but trying to amuse herself nonetheless by counting the various colours.

She heard him groan, and almost cringed.

"Ah… Granger… finding texts… for Snape's… assignment?" He seemed breathless and Hermione really didn't want to know what was getting him so worked up. She could guess, sure, but it was only slightly disturbing. Actually – really, really disturbing.

Next came sounds that Hermione couldn't even describe, and she wasn't sure she wanted to. After the sound of a zipper, it seemed safe to confront the two.

"See you again sometime, Brown." he said in what she was sure was meant to be a flirtatious way but nearly made her vomit. Lie. He smacked the girl's backside as she scampered off and turned to Hermione like he'd only kissed Lavender's cheek.

"Honestly?" she asked sceptically, giving him the eyebrow. Her arms were folded and she was balancing her weight on her left hip. It was the classic Granger scolding pose, one her own mother had used against her many times.

"What can I say, Granger?" Blaise said with a smirk, looking her up and down, "I don't discriminate."

"Ugh," Hermione scoffed, turning back to the shelves, "You disgust me."

Lie.

"Do I?"

That was the last she saw of him for several weeks, and it was almost a Godsend. His annoying presence had been a nuisance for too long, and so the absence of him was celebrated internally. She glimpsed him in classes, of course – that was something she couldn't avoid – but no longer was she suffering through conversations so frustrating that she didn't know whether she could go on. He had a knack for messing with her mind, something she did not appreciate. And so, Hermione couldn't be more relieved to be rid of the sleaze, and took great pleasure in exclaiming it to her best friends.

"I haven't seen him in weeks, and I have to tell you I've never felt better!" she said, flinging her arms around wildly with her excitement. Her hair, still darker, matched her exuberant mood and seemed to be behaving so well she hadn't bothered to brush it that morning. Maybe that was the cause of her good mood, but she was sure it was just a side affect.

"Yeah, Hermione – we know. You told us already." Ron said, trying to focus on the chessboard in front of him. Harry, on the other side, was frowning deeply at a wrong move he'd made. Hermione could see it clearly, but it seemed Harry was lost.

"I know, but I just can't get over it! Honestly, it's the most amazing feeling!" she threw her book bag at Ginny, who had previously been content reading Witch Weekly by the fire. Twirling around, Hermione laughed.

"Wow, Hermione," the red-haired girl said, putting down the book bag and the magazine next to her. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you had a crush."

That stopped her in her tracks, and Hermione almost tripped over a couple of disgruntled first years on the floor. After some rather nasty protests by the younger students, Hermione recovered her stance well enough to stare at Ginny like she'd grown an extra head.

"What?" she said, aghast.

"Yeah, Hermione – go snog him or something." Harry said, grinning ear-to-ear at the move he'd just made. The grin was wiped from his face when Ron made his.

"You're terrible friends." Hermione seethed through gritted teeth.

"We know." Ginny replied, picking her magazine up and flipping through the pages once more.

Hermione gave a screech, grabbed her book bag from beside Ginny, who raised her eyebrows at the violent act, and stalked from the common room.

"Stupid friends don't know anything." She scoffed. "As if I like Blaise! Honestly, he's such a menace and a sleaze that liking him would be the lowest of lows."

She sat down in her favourite chair, once more in the library, and sighed dramatically. Sitting back, she closed her eyes and willed herself to forget their remarks. She knew her feelings for the Slytherin, and they were definitely on the negative side.

"Hey, Granger."

She heard Blaise's distinctive timbre through the food in his mouth and gritted her teeth in annoyance.

"Go. Away."

She could sense, rather than see, Blaise's satisfied smirk at riling her up… already. He was too good at this, and it really wasn't fair.

"And what if I don't want to?" he asked, and she knew he wanted it to be rhetorical, but defied his wishes by answering his question anyway.

"Well too bad, because I don't _want_ you to stay. So LEAVE!" she screamed the last word, and suddenly put her hand over her mouth. If Madam Pince was in the vicinity then she was done for.

Blaise had paused in his eating, a half-eaten biscuit still on the way to his mouth. The box was open in his hands and she could see crumbs around his mouth and on his school jumper. Did men ever eat neatly?

When the coast seemed clear, the biscuit continued on its way into Blaise's mouth and he chewed so loudly that Hermione couldn't help but stare at the Italian in slight disgust and slight awe.

"What're you doing?" He asked, peering down at her book bag in interest, still stuffing his face with biscuits.

"Honestly?" Hermione asked disbelievingly, staring at him still.

There was a moment of silence as they looked at each other.

"What?" Blaise demanded, sending biscuit flying everywhere.

"Ugh, never mind." Hermione said, and got up from her seat, pulling her book bag with her, and walked through the library to the door, shutting it quietly behind her for fear of invoking Madam Pince's wrath.

"What?" Blaise shouted after her, but was soon silenced by a look so evil that he quickly stuffed the biscuit box behind his back and smiled charmingly. He must've had some biscuit in his teeth or something because it didn't do the trick. Widening his eyes, he walked as quickly as he could out of the library before Pince had the chance to castrate him.

* * *

"You cannot be serious. Brown?"

Blaise shrugged and landed heavily in one of the armchairs by the fire in the Slytherin common room. It was March, and so it was warming up – but it was still a little chilly, especially in the dungeons. Merlin, he hated this place.

"She was up for it, and she's pretty hot."

"But… but Brown is like the lowest of lows. The scum of Gryffindor." Draco said helplessly, trying desperately to better the reputation of his friend.

"No, that's Granger. Merlin, Draco, you've got some learning to do." Blaise said, picking up a book that was on a table and flicking through it.

"At least Granger has some brains."

The flicking stopped.

"What did you just say?"

Draco's eyes widened and he looked around nervously.

"Nothing, nothing… forget I ever said it."

Blaise grinned madly.

"No, no, you just said Granger wasn't half-bad." He finally had some dirt on his long-time buddy. Just when he thought he would have to give up, the Malfoy heir came up with this golden gem. Blaise loved life.

"No, I didn't! I did _not_ say that."

"But you implied it." Blaise said, gleeful, as he sat forward in his chair. He could hear the crackling of the fire and started counting.

"I can't dispute that." Draco said finally. "But look, just don't tell my father. He'd kill me."

_57. Not too bad._

"He's in Azkaban, Draco, there's not much he can do." He said, raising his eyebrow and sitting back in the armchair. He continued with scanning the pages of the unknown book.

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

* * *

It was just before dinner, and she really wanted to get this Charms essay over and done with so she'd never have to look at it again after this evening. It was a pain in her backside and, quite frankly, she wouldn't be upset even if she got an Exceeds Expectations for it. One more paragraph and she was done. She could almost smell the end coming, and scribbled faster on her parchment in her eagerness.

"Hermione, Blaise Zabini is at the portrait for you."

Her eager scribbling stopped.

"What?" she asked flatly, moving her head up to look at Harry.

"Go see for yourself." He said, moving over to Ginny and sitting beside her. She stared at him for a moment before leaving her parchment and ink on the table. This would only take a few minutes, at the most. The insufferable Slytherin had better things to do than talk with her, and so the sooner she got this over with the sooner she could get back to her essay, finish it, and be free for the rest of the evening.

She opened the portrait and stepped outside.

"Granger, really, we must stop meeting like this." Blaise pushed himself off the wall beside the portrait hole with his elbows and walked forward so that they were only about three feet apart. Biscuit crumbs dropped to the floor and it was with disdain that Hermione saw an open box in his hands again.

"What are you talking about? _You_ came _here_ and requested to see _me_… remember?" Hermione said, staring at him. He was acting very weird, and she was fed up of him deliberately driving her up the wall at the most inconvenient of times.

"Did I?" he asked, throwing the now empty box behind him. She followed its path as it skidded across the floor. There was silence.

"Are you going to pick that up?" she said as he stepped ever closer to her, pointing to the discarded box on the ground. He looked over his shoulder at it and shrugged.

"No."

"And why not?" she said shortly, putting her hands on her hips.

"Because I don't _feel_ like it." His tone seemed to be mocking her own, and he stepped closer again. Hermione felt a little claustrophobic in such close proximity to the sleaze and stepped back, only to hit the banister. She looked over it and felt like gulping like they do in those cartoons, as the height was just a little scary.

Lie.

It was actually really, really frightening.

"Why are you so close?" she whispered, trying to move away from him.

"Because I'm looking for a kiss, Granger. Why else? Merlin!" He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration. He shook his head before turning back to her shocked gaze. "Can I, Granger?"

"Can you what?" she said, tilting her head away from his warily.

"Can I kiss you, damn it?" he said politely, in a way that made her entirely confused.

"No!" she cried, and pushed at his chest. Her protest seemed to reach deaf ears as he tried to pull her to him.

"Zabini, if you don't let go of me right now you'll _never_ have sex with Brown again!" she warned, and the shock alone seemed to get him to loosen his hold. She dusted off her clothes and straightened her posture.

"Now… I have an essay to finish, thank you."

Turning on her heel, Hermione rushed through the portrait hole and into the common room. The nerve of him! He was a Slytherin, not to mention a bit of a whore (she apologized to herself for the curse later), and he wanted _her_? Had Malfoy done something like spike his pumpkin juice?

She couldn't stop shaking her head, and she was pretty sure she was scoffing dramatically in increments of twenty seconds. Passing some third years, Hermione tried to ignore their stares of confusion. The Head Girl and know-it-all bookworm with recently dyed hair was talking to herself and couldn't stop shaking her head no – she could understand how it could be seen as mad.

Ascending the stairs to the girls' Gryffindor dormitories, she couldn't help but laugh. What a silly concept – Blaise Zabini wanting her. He just wanted to say he'd bedded Mudblood Granger to the whole of the Hogwarts population. Well she wasn't having that. He was a liar, and a good one at that. She couldn't tell even if he was telling the truth, which she felt she was pretty good at sensing – at least when Harry and Ron were the case.

She lied, although not in the way he did. He deceived, misled, connived and lied his way to where he was now. Whereas her lying was a little more discreet – white lies mostly, and lies to make her feel better. He was on a whole other level of lying than she was, and so it was with confidence that she believed that even though she was a liar, it really didn't always take one to know one.

The next day she tried as much as she could to avoid him. He was like the plague, popping up in the most unexpected of places to deliver her own personal slice of hell. Granger this, and Granger that – if he so badly wanted her, why couldn't he call her by her first name? Honestly, Hermione was completely over Slytherins and their insistence to keep to formalities. It drove her nuts. _She_ even called them by their first names, despite her dislike for most of them. It was just polite.

Then again, she really shouldn't expect politeness from most Slytherins. She was muggle-born after all; they hated that kind of 'riff raff'.

This was a prime reason as to why Blaise Zabini didn't actually want her.

Grinning widely at her success to crack his lie, Hermione lay in bed that night, content, and alone – waiting to confront the sleaze about his failure.

"Blaise!" she called to him as she saw his back disappear into the library. Running after his curly black-haired head, she almost ran into him in her haste to confront him.

Suddenly he had her pinned to one of the bookshelves near the entrance to the library. How in Merlin's name had that happened?

"Ah, finally here for that kiss, hey, Granger?" He smirked with a victory that was not his, and her own satisfied expression matched his. He seemed to falter, and she could see his confidence decrease just that little bit.

"Oh no, I'm here to tell you that you lose."

That had him confused, as he tilted his head to the right like a dog trying to understand a human, and said nothing. It was as if he wanted her to go on, and she felt like one of those villains in the muggle action movies that always explained their complicated plan to the hero or heroine before they killed them, and then got screwed over.

_Please don't let me get screwed over._

"You lied. I see right through you, _Zabini_. I'm just another notch in your bed post to you, but I'm here to tell you that that's _never_ going to happen. Got it?"

He started to laugh.

Why was he laughing?

"Oh, Granger. I lie, you lie – it all balances out in the end. But really, I'm not lying." He added, as if it were an afterthought. She gave him the eyebrow and studied his features for a second.

She guessed he was attractive.

Oh, who was she kidding? He was ugly as hell.

_Lie._

_Shut up, shut up, shut up,_ she thought furiously.

"I don't lie." She protested, but it was rather weak because he'd given her a look as if to say _'Don't even bother trying, Granger, I know everything.'_

She actually gulped this time.

"Hmm, you're a right piece of work, you know that? Now stop lying and kiss me."

"I'm not going to kiss you!" she cried, trying to sound disgusted. In reality, she didn't need to try because she was pretty well disgusted.

_Lie._

"Not just once?" He asked, looking at her innocently. She could definitely tell he was lying…

Wasn't he?

"No!"

"Please?"

"I'm not going to enjoy it."

_Lie._

"Uh huh, Granger."

And then he kissed her and it was one of the worst things she'd ever experienced in her entire life. Honestly, she couldn't remember going through anything that horrible.

She'd had a little trouble explaining where she'd been for the following hour to her friends, though.

* * *

I hope you guys enjoyed this, and it wasn't too predictable or anything.

Please review to tell me what you think.

PheeCullen


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